


Sanctuary

by myfinalpleasure



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A present!!, But anyone can enjoy it, Cuddles, Gen, I would like to live in Stephen's sanctum, Just a very fluffy and gentle oneshot, Kisses, NB reader - Freeform, Other, Reader is a night owl, Reader is an artist, Stephen Strange - Freeform, There is meant to be a feeling of peace, This is for a friend for Valentine's Day, dr strange - Freeform, gender neutral reader, no y/n, soft very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29427666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myfinalpleasure/pseuds/myfinalpleasure
Summary: A late night where Stephen finds the reader still awake and brings them to bed.--This is a little present for a friend! They know who they are <3
Relationships: Doctor Strange/Reader, Dr. Strange/Reader, Stephen Strange/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> For my beloved! Happy Valentine's Day :))

You angrily erase the pencil lines, the bits of rubber flying across your desk as you brush them away, ignoring the way your paper frays under the constant friction. You tilt your head like a bird, studying the pose of the man in your drawing. Maybe it’s the hands that are throwing you off, they look just slightly too small, but no, you’ve redrawn them four times and they still look the same. It isn’t the eyes either, you tried those too. You stand to get a better perspective of the drawing and sigh. Your headphones rest easily over your head, steadily feeding your ears your current favourite song. You hum along, letting your body sway a little to the beat as you reach across your desk for your inking pens. 

The clock on the wall reads 3:47 AM, but there’s no way that’s right, because you certainly haven’t been sitting and working for that long...but the last of the tea in the bottom of your mug as long gone cold, and your back aches from hunching over your sketchpad. You sit back in your chair, and reach over your head to stretch your arms and yawn. One last look at the drawing makes you close the book, finished for the night. You’ll work on it tomorrow - after all, here at the sanctum, you have all the time in the world. 

You pull your headphones off and put them down with your phone on the desk, next to some small succulents. A cool, fresh breeze blows in from the open window, where there’s the last embers of a stick of incense wafting the smell of lemongrass into your room. The gentle ringing of windchimes somewhere in the tree outside fills your ears as you change yourself into more comfortable clothes for bed. 

It’s then you sense something, a presence, and you look at the doorway to see a light creeping in from underneath. You freeze, and the floorboard outside your room creaks, before a gentle tapping sounds on the wood. That could only be one person. 

Intuition wins as you open your door to meet the familiar eyes of the sorcerer you’ve come to know and love. 

“Stephen,” you whisper, and step aside to let him inside. He accepts, gracefully sweeping past you in a long, dark robe that covers his sleeping clothes. He’s holding a candle holder with a long wicked candle on it, and you laugh quietly, trying not to wake any of the sleeping students up who share the sanctum. “You look like Ebenezer Scrooge,” you tell him, and he laughs along with you, protecting the flame from his breath. 

“I came to check on you.” He admits with kind eyes. “Why are you still up?”

“Why are _you_ still up?” You counter, though you know very well why. It’s practically a sixth sense to him - being able to tell when you’re awake at erratic hours. You’re convinced it’s some sort of spell, but he swears up and down it’s plain intuition. 

Stephen switches the holder between hands as his fingers are shaking lightly. “I feel your restlessness through the walls.” He moves to reach around you, and places the candle down on your table. He then takes your hands in his. “Come stay with me tonight.”

You rub your thumbs along the surgery scars on his fingers, looking at your intertwined digits. His hands are cold, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. The offer is a sweet one - and he means so well. What's lovely about living at the sanctum with Stephen is the independence he gives you. While you and him are officially together, you have your own room, and it’s clear that you’re welcome to spend as much time in his space as your own. Having that place to yourself is nice when you want to spend some time alone, whether it’s drawing, sleeping, reading, or listening to your music. But it’s always wonderful to return to Stephen’s bed. 

“Sure,” you offer him a warm smile and pick the candle up for him. Your other hand rests in the crook of his elbow, and the two of you exit the room and stroll down the corridor, carefully toeing the creaking wood floors. Up a flight of stairs is Stephen’s room, which is familiar and smells just like him; the room smells like warmth. 

You let him go as he blows out the candle and returns it to its place on the shelf, and you move across the room to the large bed. There’s plants hanging from the ceiling (which were placed there for your benefit), and stacks of books that litter the floor and the desk. You spot his Eye of Agamotto hanging from the bedpost on his side, and while he fiddles with some papers at his desk that had fallen to the floor, you scoop up the necklace and run your fingers along its intricate designs as you wait for him in bed. 

Stephen gives up on his disorganized notes, mumbling something about it being a tomorrow project, and pads over to you. He watches you intently as he shrugs off his robe, revealing a plain set of gray tunic and pants underneath. Plain as it may be, he looks so handsome, the gray on his temples shining in the dim light and a bit of hair falling into his eyes, and the divet at the nape of his throat peeking out from his top. You climb on your knees and inch forward on the bed until you’re face to face with the sorcerer, placing the necklace around his neck before taking his hands in yours again. 

You can’t stop smiling, and Stephen gives you an amused smile. “What?”

“I love you,” you remind him, and you release one hand to bring a palm to his face. 

“I love you too,” he whispers, before bringing his lips to yours in a soft kiss, the faint taste of his toothpaste on his breath. He pulls away to mumble your name, before pressing his forehead to yours. “But you need to start getting to bed at a reasonable time. Do you have any idea how bad that is for your health? You can-”

“You’re a surgeon, and a magician, not a..a..” You interrupt, but the word you’re looking for escapes your mouth. “A sleep doctor!” 

“A somnologist?” He asks, a smirk on his lips and you playfully smack his chest before falling back into the pillows, with Stephen not far behind. He lays down and you snuggle up against him, tangling your legs with his and pulling the blanket over the two of you.

You’re quiet for a few minutes before you chuckle quietly. “I’ll start going to bed earlier, I promise.” He doesn't respond and you tilt your head upwards. “Stephen?’ 

When he still doesn’t you prop yourself on your elbow to get a look at his face and find him already fast asleep. You’re about to scold him before you catch his clock on his bedside table, and it’s past 4:00. Quietly, you squirm back into his hold and rest your head against his chest, bringing one hand up to play with the Eye again. Tomorrow, you decide, you will sleep in and let Stephen study and train, and when you wake up, you will make tea and lunch for the two of you so you can picnic in the back field, under the blossom tree and in view of the mountain range. Under the sun, with the person you love and cherish. 

Your thoughts stay drifting upon the sea of promise and joy that will come tomorrow as you slowly fall into slumber, safe in the arms of the powerful sorcerer you call home.

**Author's Note:**

> Something short and sweet. I hope you enjoyed. <3


End file.
